Soul Eater: Resonance Revolution!
by Disneyholica24
Summary: Asura has been destroyed, Crona saved from the moon, and all the witches live freely. Just when things couldn't get any better...they get worse. From the ashes springs forth new life but also new evils, along with some old ones. Can the dark be chased away or will it swallow them whole, and will they be able to defeat their adversaries when one of them hides behind a friendly face?
1. Prologue

Kid's Introduction: A new beginning?

***A/N: This is my first, official, soul eater fanfiction, so please be kind and give healthy reviews not one sentence comments that one might find on YouTube. Also, if you are a fan of Soul Eater I have some Soul Eater poems up on here as well. Give them a look, please? If you are already a fan of my work, brilliant! Thanks for checking out more of my stuff. I hope you enjoy this. Also, one last thing, no hate please. Giving you this warning right now, I use FEM Crona, that is how I see Crona and cannot unsee it that way, thanks to the manga, specifically a certain nearly naked picture of her from the manga. SO, if you do not like FEM Crona, leave. Now. Seriously. If you are going to debate all day in the comments or whine about it I don't need you or your idiotic comments glue forever to my story. Please, go elsewhere with that crap. If you don't mind either way and find Crona to be Crona, with or without gender, or simply don't care to the point of it not ruining the story, then please, read on. If you see Crona as a girl, read on. If you see Crona as a boy but you are open-mined, read on. Doesn't matter, as long as I receive no hate-mail or annoying, pests debating gender n my review box. In that end, I apologize for such a long authors note and on the first chapter too! Just wanted to make myself clear, that's all. If you have any concerns or comments, message me. So, without further ado, here is my very first Soul Eater Fanfiction, taken place after the manga (though it still has elements from the show); Soul Eater: Resonance Revolution! Enjoy!***

Hello and Good evening to you all, my name is Death The Kid, named after my father, the late Lord Death. Long ago my father was crowned the first grim reaper, the strongest and most revered so far. All looked toward him for guidance and strength. Yet in the world of light there must always fall darkness and such darkness carried the name Asura. Asura swallowed his weapon and in turn his paranoia, like his many scarves, swallowed him. Thus a Kishin was born, a soul tainted by pure evil.

My father did his best efforts to eradicate the kishin Asura by wrapping him in a bag of his own flesh and sealing him away. This left my father a prisoner, shackled in his efforts to help. So he came up with an idea to create a school for gifted humans called meisters who would wield soul-bound weapons in effort to exterminate the vermin called Kishin. Whoever could collect ninety-nine kishin souls and one witch soul would become my father's personal reaping tool.

This is how the DWMA or the Death Weapon Meister Academy was created with noble purposes but hiding a dark secret just beneath the floorboards. For a while, it seemed, the malevolent kishin slept soundly in the basement of the school but nothing could be peaceful for long. A true wicked witch named Medusa had infiltrated he DWMA, masquerading as the school nurse. With the help of another witch named Eruka Frog and an immortal werewolf named Free with the magic eye of the witch's leader, she was able to overcome all of the careful planning of Professor Stein; the schools scientist, teacher, and the greatest scythe wielder of all time.

With a bit of assistance from Asura's madness we were deceived and Eruka was able to inject black blood, a concoction of Medusa's creation, into Asura which awoke the slumbering evil. Now here we were, me and my comrades, facing a grand battle which would make enemies friends and friends into enemies and would call forth all the powers we had to defeat him, Medusa, and her equally malicious sister Arcane along with her followers called Arachnophobia.

With tedious training and many challenges overcome we were ready to take on Asura at last. Medusa was defeated by her own daughter, Crona and her weapon made of black blood called Ragnarok, while Arcane was taken down by Medusa beforehand. All that was left was the greatest evil we ever faced and it would take all our strengths and unique abilities to destroy him and save Crona from her madness for she was a friend of ours, despite everything that happened.

Maka Albarn, a scythe technician with incredible soul perception, a rare grigori soul, and soul purifying abilities would use Soul "Eater" Evans, her weapon who had black blood and musical soul resonance, to her advantage, while Black*Star, a ninja assassin with the star-clan's blood and an extremely arrogant yet persistent head-strong nature, would use his many talented weapon Tsubaki's enchanted sword mode.

I, on the other hand, was relying on the strength of my two twin pistols Elizabeth and Patty Thompson as well as my own shinigami talents that father had blessedly passed on to me. The greatest ability was to be when the lines of sanzu connected and allowed me passage to all the true powers of a grim reaper. Though we had slain many with our Professors help and the other death scythes such as Miss. Marie from the Oceania district, we could not make impact without something I did.

It was very bold and never done before but I had begged the help of the witches. The hatred of the witches toward our kind was well-deserved as we mercilessly massacred them for the sake of creating a stronger weapon. Yet through my begging and use of a student who was a witch named Kim Diehl I was able to successfully persuade them to join our side. Ever still even with the lines connected, even with Maka's strength, even with the enchanted sword mode Black*Star used finally being met to its fullest potential we could not truly defeat Asura, who I had found out was actually my brother, or save Crona.

Add to that fact that Noah, a man who sought to collect the oddities of the world and put it in his book, and his side-kick Gopher who also possessed a grigori soul, got away. It seemed all was lost and yet we had hope and a considerable amount of enemies defeated. When we returned to earth I was met with the greatest travesty of the war- my father was dead. It was due to the fact that the lines of sanzu were connected and this meant I would take his place, so he had no purpose on this earth. He was gone, without a trace. The "legendary" sword Excalibur made it hard for me to mourn, though, for he would not shut his infernal trap.

Feeling a sense of duty I took up my father's cloak and mask, donning them, and becoming what my destiny, my birth, had entailed me to become. We had a grand ceremony in which I welcomed the witches to live freely without fear of treason or worry. I then labeled Soul Evans as my new death scythe and the last death scythe for there would be no more slaying of witches anymore from that point on. With Miss. Marie expecting Stein's child and a loud, cheerful promise from Maka we were ushered into a new beginning, with me as the new Shinigami Sama, hell-bent on making my father proud and proving his death was not in vain.

The following days had given us the tenacity and perseverance along with attentive, thorough planning that allowed us the ability to finally save Crona and defeat the Kishin once and for all. Crona was shaken with a deep fear, dark circles were around her already sunken in eyes and she would not stop apologizing for all the suffering that had come at her hands, especially the blow she had dealt her own mother. Though her mother was anything but Crona still felt sorrow and anguish for what she had done. Crona was fortunate to be surrounded by such forgiving and friendly company for any other would have her incarcerated or destroyed.

We would have no such thing; Maka especially for Maka was Cronas' best friend in the entire world. Crona was hesitant to come back with us, not wanting to face the world she had helped to destroy. With a lot of talking in to Crona was able to shyly scoot back next to Maka's side and join the new world that was now Asura free. Miss. Marie was very kind-hearted and opened up her and Stein's humble abode to our nervous pink-haired companion and in some way it was like Miss. Marie adopted Crona, doting affection on the motherless girl.

It couldn't be helped that Crona was still edgy and withdrawn with a touch of madness still harbored inside her. I had been noted that Crona was rid of Ragnarok, without any cause and thus Stein sought to do some experiments on Crona but nothing too drastic, now toned down thanks to marital bliss and a soon-to-be fatherhood. After being returned to earth Crona was very zoned out and weak, distanced from people, and spoke to herself often. It was rare to see Crona outside of the stitched-up house Marie and Stein lived in. So we visited her often, in hopes that constant care and loving friendship would heal any wounds she had.

A new world, a new chapter, and a new beginning had started with the healing of Crona and the eradication of the greatest evils we or any other meister had come to face in any century. For a while things were at peace, witches and weapons living in harmony, meisters and mortals hand in hand, and me watching over it all, the dutiful protector of my people as their president, their manager, their boss, their god, their guardian. My duties were no burden; they were an act of valor and gallantry. It was my responsibility and I was proud of that which I had become.

Yet in this new chapter of our lives there was still much danger to be found. Other Kisihins could still be made, Madness still lurked inside Crona and Soul, Noah was out there somewhere, and in the dark of the alleyways there were relentless witches, stubborn in their ways. Even still there were other evils yet to be discovered and challenges yet to be faced. In this world with a delicate balance of order and chaos the scales could be easily tipped by the tiniest of weights. I worry for the people I now must govern, the friends who try to hold onto hope with the tightest of grasps. I can feel the fear in their wavelengths. I must protect them from the approaching doom…but can I? Is this new beginning…to be our end?


	2. Chapter 1

The Dark Secret: It feels better when it hurts?

*A/N- Sorry I've been off for such a long time and haven't posted jack. I've been sick, still am, and my computer hasn't been working very well, still isn't. So yeah…Sorry. Here, I hope my very first chapter will be the start of me trying to get some footing on this fan fiction.*

In the wee hours of the morning when a gray fog-like mist shrouded a small city nestled in the deserts of Arizona, there was a disturbance. Before the markets opened, save for the bakery which was preparing its fine goods, sending the scent of pastries and breads wafting through the early morning air is when the disturbance broke though the usually dead silence of 3:00 A.M. In a quaint little town house where the French-styled windows had white iron balconies and a hammock stretched between two palm trees out back, is where the disturbance happened.

It specifically happened inside a room that was dark due to the blinds shut tightly to close out the offending sun, music and movie posters, including posters from old black and white movies, were plastered onto the ebony painted walls that were slightly chipping, but beyond all the B-Movie posters, walls lined with racks of C-D albums and vintage vinyl records, a computer with a glowing screen sitting upon a mahogany desk that had been carved into, the room was a disarray.

It looked as if a twister tore through the place with half empty boxes of pizza on the floor, crumpled balls of paper littering the place, crushed cans of Dr. Pib, Citrus Drop, and Cola that have missed the trash can, smell sneakers, candy wrappers and chip bags, clothes piled high that were in need of a good wash, and general garbage and clutter everywhere making the room look like an utter disaster. It seemed as if it belonged to a messy animal and not a young musician. His own acoustic guitar, a nice sierra SAS30CEM, was halfway hidden by sheets of scrunched up ideas for songs but playing the guitar was but a hobby, his real talent was being an incredible pianist.

Unfortunately he could not afford the lacquered black grand piano he so desired, the ones he often saw in ritzy hotels played by gifted instrumentalists of high caliber. Not like the semi-starving musician he deemed himself to be, practicing on a keyboard he purchased from a garage sale months ago. It was the best fifty bucks he had ever spent on himself and the keyboard was in great condition, all things considered. It had belonged to an eleven year old girl and was decorated haphazardly with glittery girly holographic stickers along with being stained with purple and pink paint from her not taking proper care of it by cleaning it, but otherwise it was just fine for what he needed.

The young man lay stretched across his faded orange striped bed sheets, clad in just grey boxers, a scar ran across his alabaster, toned chest while his ivory jutting out at different angles sloppily across his pillow. Drool had crusted on his bottom lip as he snored lightly; every now and then he scratched his nether regions and a tattoo on his arm of a few music notes dancing gracefully within sheets of music. He had been sleeping for hours already and not just the normal sleeping hours but about twelve hours in all, but that's all he ever did. Sleep, eat, practice, and would occasional go somewhere for a gig or bowling with his friends or getting dragged to the mall to do some shopping.

Things were considerably quiet since Blair, the cat with "crazy magical powers", left to live back in her own pumpkin-shaped house in the woods, visiting from time to time to cause mischief, hang out with his girl friend's from the El Chupacabra bar, and she was seen going in and out of Spirit Albarns' house, presumably to sleep with him. Today, though, the stillness would be interrupted by the disturbance mentioned earlier. In his Nyquil, valium, alcohol, Coumadin, and Tylenol induced sleep he did not know the disturbance would take place and it all starting with the rude, rough, pushing open of his door and a girl shouting his name.

"Soul! Soul it's time to wake up!"

Soul "Eater" Evans could usually go into a deep sleep but Maka's voice was able to pull him out from his lucid dreams. His red eyes, naturally that color though still blood shot from the impolite awakening, popped wide open from being disturbed from his long rest. He uttered a distressed grunt while pulling up his pillow over his head to block out her and her sonic screech that was called her voice. Her voice wasn't normally like this, only when she was pissed.

"Go away Maka," He grumbled from under the pillow, trying desperately to go back to sleep.

"No!" She protested, "You've slept enough!"

"Fuck you! It's only 3 o'clock, Jesus fuck!"

Maka snorted inwardly in fury, glaring at the lethargic excuse for a partner she had, shoveling his way under covers and sheets while sporting a desire for cursing. He cursed an awful lot lately. Maka herself cursed at times but didn't have the foul tongue he did. Out of all her friends, he cursed the most.

"I don't care! Mama always said the early bird gets the worm, so up and at 'em!"

She ended her statement with a few short claps also making her voice a bit louder, nearly piercing his ears. Soul grabbed the covers and rolled around creating a burrito effect while his behind was still in the air, making Maka snicker despite herself. Maka refused to be denied, though, as she took initiative and forced her way through the trash-filled room, opened his blinds, and let the warm blinding sunshine in creating a yellow glow about the usually dimly lit room. In reaction to this Soul let out a playful vampiric hiss which, in return, Maka rolled her soul perceiving emerald eyes then viewed his domain with disgust, nearly getting sick to her stomach at the smell of sweaty boy scent mixed with sullied socks and rotten food.

"Ugh! How do you live in this?! It's a pigsty!"

"I don't tell you how to live your life," Soul mumbled under his breath, groaning as he realized Maka was on a mission to get his ass out of bed.

Maka gave a short laugh at that, scooting her way through the rest of his cluttered space to his bed. "You know if you did I'd Maka chop you to the next city." She grinned as she was finally able to lift off his covers from his groggy body, revealing his nearly naked form, but by this time she had seen more than enough of his chest than any woman might claim to. "Now get your lazy butt up!"

"Why?" He whined, a small choking cry in his voice as if it was killing him to even be up, "It's too early for this shit."

Out of his covers and onto the floor he fell, on accident of course, but landed with a thud on what was once beige carpeting, out of his dreamland and into harsh reality,

"Ow!" Goddamit!" He moaned in agony, grabbing the top of his head in pain.

"Oops. Sorry, Soul," Maka genuinely apologized, covering her mouth to hide the smile she had, "Well…at least you're up now. Come on, lazy bones, I'll make you some breakfast."

He grumbled with agitation under his breath about being rudely awoken before absent mindedly itching his chin which sported a scraggly beard, thinking briefly about how he would need to shave. He would do just that as he was able to languidly pulled on a pair of raggedy, torn, stained, bleached, and wrinkled blue jeans and a dull t-shirt from a popular band back in his home in UK called 'Gorillaz' before entering his own bathroom. Soul yawned, his doppelganger in the mirror mimicking him, the scent of pizza sauce, overly sweet snack cakes, and a strong overpowering stench of booze coming to greet him. The cheep kind of booze. The kind that hobos drink from brown paper bags.

Soul stuck out his tongue and ran it across the serrated edges of his razor sharp shark teeth that were lightly tinted a yellow color because he had a hard time being hygienic and he had an unhealthy habit. A dirty habit that even Maka didn't know about. He smoked. A lot. If Maka could use a bit of some sleuthing she might find ash trays dusted with black ash, cigarette butts, and empty boxes of Marlboros around his room. Try as he might he could not quit. He was an addict.

As Soul shaved he recounted all the things he was addicted to as of late. Pills, cigarettes, alcohol, and sleep. A clean cut shave other than a beatnik styled beard, a few more colorful and oddly shaped medications popped in later, and he was out to discover the dining room table had a plateful of delicious food waiting just for him. Maka was a good cook, not as good as Tsubaki, but good enough to satisfy him/ He couldn't cook to save his life, all he could do was microwave hot pockets and pop tarts or preheat boxed food. She put on her frilly flower printed apron and she became a one stop cooking and cleaning machine.

She was always the motherly, womanly type with a tomboy edge that could turn her from a domestic house wife into someone who could destroy you in a video game. Soul liked that about her and despite the fact that she was "musically challenged" she was always the one who gave him the confidence to pursuit his forgotten, hidden passion that he tried to hide away from himself. He had never wanted to aspire to the thing his family pressured him to be but Maka wanted him to be what his bloodline deemed him to be. A musician, born to a family of wealthy people who were gifted in the musical arts. After a bit of push and shove he learned to accept his last name and allow people to call him Soul Evans, but they still called him by his nickname "eater". Maka inspired him. She moved him.

"This looks great Maka, thanks," Soul said, sitting down and licking his lips at the delectable meal.

Maka blushed lightly, putting her hands behind her back and smiling kindly. "You're welcome. See, aren't you glad that you woke up early?"

"No," He hastily replied, stuffing his mouth with a piece of tomato and spinach omlette, "Actually I' rather be asleep."

She huffed out through her nose like a bull before placing her hands on her hips, her eyebrows arched to showcase her frustration. "That's all you ever do! I…"

She paused, jade eyes downcast upon her pink and yellow house slippers that were awkwardly shuffling about to distract her in some manner or another. "I…I get worried about you Soul…are you alright?"

His red eyes met her disheartened green ones, swallowing on a piece of grilled sausage so hard that it made a gulped noise. His meister was strong, in every sense, but looking at her now that strength seemed to fade into a light hopelessness. It made his heart wretch at her frown, knowing she was worried and hurt. He didn't like seeing her like this at all, it tore his soul into pieces and he was more than certain she could read him like an open book. He wished to god she couldn't but he knew she could and that's why she was so bothered.

This was all his fault or more so all the fault of his inner darkness trying to get some footing on him. He drowned it with hard cider, he burned it with toxins, and pushed it down with numerous medications, some were prescribed. They had been prescribed to thin his blood and calm the madness that raged inside of him due to the black blood but now he overdosed on them, including many others, hindering more than helping. His dreams helped him escape a world of Maka crying over his current situation and internal demons clawing at his insides. If he was asleep he could create a getaway from the other things he did when awake. The other pill popping, the smoking, and getting plastered.

Besides, even if he wanted to stay awake it was hard to fight the side effects of the drugs he took to keep himself at sleep or the evil at bay. He wanted to quit, he really did, but he couldn't as a manic addict. What he needed was help if he ever wanted Maka to be her usual chipper self instead of distraught. She cared so much about him, so much so that, even though he didn't know it, she had a crush on him but he cared very little for himself. All he cared about was the safety and happiness of his meister. That was what any good, any cool weapon would do. So he touched her hand gently feeling the soft skin she had go a little warm, and told her in his rugged, slightly laid-back, slow voice a lie,

"I'm fine," He told her, looking into her eyes with a toothy smirk "Promise."

She lit up like a Christmas tree. His Maka was herself again and that's all he ever wanted. She gripped his hands a little tightly before she stated, "Great, because I'll need you to drive me to Steins house."

"Stein?" He mused, raisin an eyebrow lightly and slipping his hands from hers, "What for?" He then shoveled food in his mouth like a human vacuum, only to be beat by Black*Star.

Maka crossed the kitchen, kicking off her slippers to slip into some boots. It was obvious she already bathed and gotten dressed to go, making Soul ponder just how early she got up. She wore a belted green dress that complimented her eyes; black tights, high blue and silver boots with red accents, and a short jacket that was dark blue with silver buttons. Her hair was cut shorter to frame her matured face and give her a more mature look and in that ache-blonde hair was a Lord Death skull hair clip that she purchased from a little store. She certainly had matured over years, from a flat-chested fourteen year old to an attractive eighteen year old. By the time they saved Crona, it taking a while to get everything settled in Death City and to come up with a plan, she was already sixteen going on seventeen. After that it took a year to settle everything now that Crona was there. Her chest had blossomed into another bra size, for which she was glad of but she was still a lot smaller than she wanted to be and smaller than her friends.

Her emerald eyes stayed wide and focused with a striking glow to them that gave off her special soul perception abilities. Soul on the other hand, was about nineteen though he looked old enough to fool people in bars into believe he was twenty one. He appeared similar to his brother though more toned out instead of lean, less feminine and more manly, his hair swooping to one side in spikes but they seemed shorter and a glazed look in his ruby eyes. He occasionally wore headbands from time to time though he was often mocked and made fun of because of it being "girly".

"To see Crona, of course," Maka replied, answering Soul's previous question.

"Oh…" was all he said as he poked at the spring of sage that decorated his food. Crona was Maka's best of friends, besides him, having been through a lot of tough times together that made their bond tight. She was the reason Soul carried his everlasting scar on his chest.

Crona had once carried black blood, replacing the normal red blood in her system, and used it like a weapon. This was the fault of her pure evil mother who wanted to make Crona into a kishin. After everything was said and done and the evils defeated it seemed Crona lost Ragnarok and gained the usual color of blood she was meant to have, though slightly darker. In her, though, were a few drops of black blood and her mother's blood. Just a few drops, but it was enough.

She was insane, ballistic, driven up a wall because of her guilt and wretched past without love. Soul could, at some point, relate. Black blood is created by madness, enhanced with madness, fueled by madness, and so it can drive you mad.

"But first," Maka uttered, interrupting his thoughts briefly, "I want t buy her some flowers, okay? Hey…are you listening?"

Soul shook himself out of his thoughts, not realizing he was so deep in thought that he detached himself from actuality. He did that often. His blank, dead eyes gazed up languidly to see Maka leaning over him, cruelly analyzing him with her troubled, jade eyes trying her hardest not to fret about what she was seeing in his soul. The real reason she was going to visit Stein was more or less to talk to him, not Crona. If there was anyone that could help her, it was him.

"Yeah yeah…flowers, right?" He casually questioned, placing his dish in the sink after mustering up enough energy to do so.

Maka placed an open palm of her partner's forehead, frantic about her closest friend's condition. Was he sick? What she saw in his chest, what she could read from his soul, what she could feel from his wavelength, was giving her a fright. At times she could not sleep either, it was a good thing Soul kept some sleeping pills around…though, admittedly… she never knew him to have trouble sleeping at all. If anything it seemed he slept too much. Just what was going on? His eyes traveled up to her hand and hummed curiously at it, trying to ignore the pain and concern that danced within her orbs.

"Maka…?"

"Just making sure…you act so strange lately…almost like you're not all the way there."

"Maka I'm your best friend, right? I would tell you if something was up."

She wanted to say that he didn't always tell her things, especially secret things because he was afraid of her worrying herself to death. She sighed heavily to herself thinking maybe she should just wait until she was alone with Professor Stein to talk about this stuff. She smiled a bit sheepishly, "Yeah…I guess you're right. Your breath stinks though."

It really did. There was some strange but well-known scent to her. She had smelled it before on her father. Was that…alcohol she smelled? No it couldn't be…her soul would never. Would he? She couldn't read his lifeless eyes, she could only see what was going on with his soul and she didn't like it one bit. It frightened her to the core.

"Well excuse me for not having minty fresh breath! We can't all be perfect like you," He joked, grinning at her which made her giggle. This was the soul she knew, the soul that didn't go behind her back and do things she wasn't aware of, the soul that didn't sleep for years it seemed, the soul that she could talk to no matter what was up.

She nudged him playfully and got nudged back. It was almost enough to make her forget about her troubles because when he re-activated the side of him that she remembered she was happy and she could tell he was too. Soul really liked her laugh, it was adorable. She wasn't just a cool meister, she was a cool friend. He couldn't ask for a better one if he tried. She was understanding, kind, and a total badass. Even if she wasn't technically his meister, given his newly acquired death scythe status, he still would call his partner any day. Their wave lengths just worked like a perfect symphony, though if they resonated now he was certain there would be trouble.

"Well I'll be out by the cycle waiting, don't take too long okay?"

"Whatever," He retorted with a calm tone as if to brush it off. It was his calm, cool, smooth nature that Maka liked. They were a pretty good balance despite the little fights they might have.

She was out the door, forgetting to put her house slippers away and Soul was not about to play housemaid and do it for her. He shoved his hands in his pocket ever so casually, kicking on his shoes, as a joy overcame him to find out he had a stray cigarette in his pocket. Without missing a beat his shoes were on and the cigarette was lit. As he breathed out the gray smoke through the open window into the disappearing early morning mist he thought about how Maka's eyes would be filled with tears if she were ever to figure out his dark secrets. But this as the only way to stop the pain…by creating more. He quickly put out the cancer stick, flicked in the trash, gargled some mouth wash quickly to get rid of the scent of nicotine and tobacco, and grabbed his motorcycle keys before leaving.

He stopped though, catching sight of a picture of himself on the counter. It was before everything, when the slumped figure was just his natural look, when the half-lidded look he had to his eyes was just his face, and when the sloppy smile he sported was all part of his charm instead of attempting to cover his deep perversions and inner darkness that desperately tried to steal his essence. That tiny devil he swore he got rid of waited inside of him and tempted Soul from time to time with tid bits of empathetic sorrow and insane thoughts. Thoughts about blood and gore…about hunger…about the end of suffering…about death…about sex…about Maka…about murder. Soul was afraid…Of himself.

While he was nowhere near the nervous wreck that Crona was he was starting to hit the brink of becoming just as bad. He was torn between two worlds- the world with his best friend but her fear and sadness over his dyeing soul being possessed by madness was there or the world of ambient and Advil, where he could sleep the madness away and ignore Maka's anguish displayed in her eyes. Either way, though, he was trapped.

"Nothing gets better does it?" He asked himself, swallowing a few pills that defiantly weren't prescription. It was ecstasy. He put on a fake smile before heading out, Maka asking once again if he was alright but he assured her that if she asked again he would "soul chop" her.

"I told ya already-"

"I know," She interrupted, gripping her helmet tight, trying to fight back any tears, "I know…your fine."

He came behind her and squeezed her shoulder in a caring fashion. "That's right Maka, I'm fine. Now get on."

He mounted his motorcycle and put on his helmet, a dead pan face staring into the horizon with the rising laughing sun. He found himself having a strong need for some oxycoton, antidepressants, and another good smoke. Otherwise he felt he wasn't sure he could get through the day without internal threat. He gritted his teeth, wind rushing past him as he sped on his chopper, thinking bitterly to himself,

'Yeah…I'm just fine.'


	3. Chapter 2

***A/N: Sorry guys that I haven't posted in AGESSS! My computer is broken and I just now got access to A computer. That's right. A computer. Not mine. I don't know when or if it will be fixes so please, please, bear with me! I have multiple chapters written on paper so I have them all written down it's just a matter of getting them typed out. Please forgive me. I really wish I could supply you all with more work. I really do. Please enjoy this chapter until I can get the next one up. It has some citrus in it, not really limes I think. Only hints and tiny innuendos. Enjoy!***

Chapter 2: Starlight Star bright- He has a prized possession?

While Soul was riding down the near empty streets of Death City in the early morning, in another Japanese styled abode slept one of Maka's best friends named Tsubaki. Tsubaki Nakatsukasa was about eighteen year old young woman that could transform into an array of ninja weapons from a blade to a five point throwing star. She was an excellent weapon possessed with her deceased brothers' soul and all of his prior powers, giving her the enchanted sword form that was hard to master. Every day she awoke she felt her brother's spirit beside her, he lived within her own soul reminding her of her suffering, her joy, her past and her future and her own personal inner strength and confidence. After the Asura moon incident she paid her respects to her family after not seeing them for such a long time. She could not explain her overwhelming joy when she saw the smiling faces of her parents and the deep sadness she felt when she was expecting her brother to come out and greet her as well.

Now he would never greet her again and this was a hard thing to come to grasp with. Nevertheless she stayed strong and moved in with them for a year along with her mesiter Black*Star who was descended from the villainous star clan. His father was the leader the infamous White*Star who mercilessly murdered many and left none alive. Black*Star wasn't like him though, if anything he went out of his way not to be like him, to not repeat the past. It was Mifune, the samurai with a sweet side for children, who helped Black*Star realize his self-worth and the path he chose; Not the hero, not the villain, but his own path-The Black*Star path. Black*Star did not embrace his bloodline, he was starkly contrasting to his ancestors and he was almost thankful that he was not raised with them and taken in with the Dwma, raised by one of the teachers- Sid Barrett.

This did not mean he was ostracized, despised, or feared, or belittled by others whenever they saw the trademark star on him that marked his lineage. There were times he couldn't even enter a village or town without someone throwing a rock at him or cowering in fear. It ate away at him, though he would never show it, in fact it was hard to read him if anything ever did get to him. He was always loud and cocky about everything but one woman could tell just when something bothered him-that woman was Tsubaki. He trusted her and even if he never told her what was up with him he knew she would always have his back and he hers. After they spent the year together in Japan with Tsubaki's parents they came back home to their beloved Death City where they were warmly received by familiar friendly faces by going out to eat at Black*Stars' favorite 'all you can eat' sushi bar. Being a glutton Black*Star fulfilled the promise of eating all he could before being literally carted home with a heavy stomach and he was sick of sushi, even the word sushi, for a week.

He even vomited a bit because of how utterly stuffed he was but his faithful weapon, ever loyal, understanding, and kind, stood by his side until he got better. Today she slept contently in her cozy bed, her long black hair, longer now, spread across the pillow. Overtime she had grown even more beautiful, a true flower as was her namesake and to some she was the crown jewel of Death City. She had curves for miles; a very buxom woman with a round bottom, large breasts, and an enviable hourglass figure. From her kitchen came the awakening scent of an all American style breakfast and coffee. Her azure eyes slowly opened to welcome the early morning sunshine spilling in from the window and lighting up her features and the undeniable smell of greasy, fattening goodness coming from the kitchen along with a distinct, nose wrinkling, coughing burnt smell mingled in.

She stretched in her lavender and light pink negligee, wondering what the day held for her. She might video chat with her technology dead parents then exercise with Black*Star and go train or shop for flowers for her lovely garden. Maybe she would visit Maka. The day was hers to conquer and do what she wished!

"Hmm," She mused, removing her covers off her curvaceous frame and placing her feet on the polished wood floor, "Smells like Black*Star making breakfast."

A cheery smile appeared on her lovely face as she poked her head out of the door to see her suspicion was true. There was Black*Star standing in his low riding sweat pants and nothing else, he was clearly up early doing some routine morning calisthenics and weight lifting as a thin sheen of sweat laid on his chest. As time passed since the moon incident he actually grew taller and, if imaginable, more muscular. He was absolutely ripped thanks to his heavy, nearly nonstop training, but he was not grotesque, he was perfectly sculpted for his size and his hair was short, always neatly kept. He firmly believed that cleanliness was close to godliness, even if at times he was sloppy, messy, and an unorganized klutz, he always had to be well bathed and clean cut. Hearing Tsubaki move across the floor he turned to her, frying pan handle in hand, and smiled at her.

"Hey good morning, tsu, how did you sleep?"

"Oh, good. Thank you for asking. What are you making?"

His black eyes darted from the pan to her. "I thought I'd make us some breakfast."

This earned him a winning smile and her coming closer to him. He tried not to seem like a goofy idiot, grinning wide or anything like that, but here was this gorgeous woman flush against his bare, toned, bronzed chest and she was barely concealed in here sheer, lacy attire that was the color he loved on her. It wasn't that racy bit it was vaguely see through and showed off a nice amount of cleavage to his leering eyes. He was struggling not to get a nose bleed. Her hair was out, her fingers splayed across his tight chest right on a very special tattoo he had. She stroked it, he shuddered, she smiled,

"You're so thoughtful."

She looked so soft and warm just then that it made his usually stubborn, hard heart of a fighter flutter and gush with emotion. He snorted outwardly, a common thing he did, and chuckled in a cocky way.

"Well, you know me," He stated, sounding ever so prideful as he lifted her chip up to meet those beguiling blues of hers, "I'm always thoughtful."

He kissed her then, deep and passionate, pressing her full lips on his own slightly chapped ones and at first she blushed but then she responded by wrapping her arms around him. This wasn't a surprise kiss of a boy who couldn't help himself around his pretty roommate. Oh no. They had been an "item" for about two years solid. It had all started with them coming to terms with those feelings they shared that started before they even knew about Asura and then after all the happenings their relationship grew and even during. He officially asked her out about a week after the moon incident and she, blushingly, agreed to be his girl. They took it slow at first, very slow, and Black*Star would never admit it but he was unskilled with relationships. She was his first girlfriend. Ever. When they held hands he was nervous but never showed it, he acted nonchalant about the skin to skin contact. She wasn't just any girl she was, to him, the hottest girl in the DWMA.

She had proven to be more than just a pretty face. She was loyal and king and wholesome and willing and in times of need determined. She suited him just fine. She had to admit that she wasn't sure what her parents might think of their being together but she found her worrying was for not. Her parents ADORED him, especially her father. He was already calling Black*Star son-in-law which made Tsubaki blushingly smile in a nervous way but Black*Star took it well and swore that he would kick the ass of anyone who even looked at her. Period. He meant it. He was incredibly jealous, not possessive but protective of what was rightfully his now. He swore never to hurt her and said, with the straightest of faces, that he's sooner commit seppuku* for harming her in ANY fashion was a dishonor to his manhood, her lineage, her, and god.

He would lose his "god status" if he did such a thing and her parents were moved. So was she. Deeply moved. It almost made her cry. Later, about a week later or two, she stood in her mother's stone garden contemplating herself. When Black*Star consulted her she admitted that she felt she had no idea why he chose her. What could a scentless flower give to a person who perceived themself as more than human? He was a hero…she was….well quite literally a tool. He gave her a rousing speech about how she was more than that and that he was ashamed she still thought these things. After wiping her eyes she agreed with him and told him she was just anxious and unsure. He was her first and only love. Feeling open, he exposed his heart to her in the privacy in the garden. He loved her and he told her so and that he was no god without a goddess. All her fears washed away but tears remained- tears of joy. He kissed her soul right out of her; he kissed her all over her face and neck. She may be a weapon but she was also a woman and she truly felt that way because of him.

Every day there with her parents was a happy one and provided lots of learning experiences, bonding time, and a good amount of humor from her brazen father who loved Black*Star. They were thick as thieves and he was proud to have such a strong young man to be his daughter's man. Neither her mother nor her father cared about his blood line or past they were good people who saw him as separate from that. Black*Star loved her parents as he never really had any of his own. He never loved anyone the way he loved Tsubaki. He would just stare at her sometimes. Out of respect he didn't peer at her body through a hidden way but soon he didn't need to. After half a year of being at her parents' house the two of them relaxed in a hot spring and from there everything went so fast, suddenly he was on top of her. At first he apologized for being so forward but received something he did not expect- she let him touch her again and again.

In the dark of the night their desires were sated and in her bedroom, the moon high in the sky, he broke her seal and made her his. The first time was nothing like she secretly fantasized, it hurt. A lot. The next time, however, fulfilled her dreams but both times he left her raw with her nether regions aching, in pain and for more. He thought he was careful but her father gave Black*Star a knowing look one day and offered him a condom. At first Black*Star was thirty levels of embarrassed, shocked, flustered, and all about nervous. Her father confided with him that he trusted Black*Star with the Nakatsukasa's greatest possession- Their child. He in turn promised that he'd treat her like a prized possession and if a child should appear he'd be the father White*Star never was. Thus their relationship bloomed even more so. One day after they moved back home Black*Star randomly said,

"You know I'd make an honest woman out of you…If you weren't honest." And without another peep he fell asleep leaving the thought in her head and her face bright red. All that went through her head was one word, "Mrs. Star." Ever sense then they have been extraordinarily close with always a hint of marriage as a whisper on their lips. Speaking of lips theirs were still connected in a passionate frenzy, gentle tongues probing mouths and hands holding tight around bodies. She moaned gently into the kiss which made him want to do a plethora of things to her. So many. Right there on that table. He didn't care about eating anyways…well…not breakfast anyhow.

"Black*Star!" Tsubaki suddenly yelled, disconnecting herself from him to point at the stove, "The bacon is burning!"

"Huh?" He hummed, still lost in his passion before realizing what he had done. "Ah shit!"

Quickly he disposed of the burnt meat, thankful that he had an already made batch. They both looked at each other and she stifled a laugh at his error. Black*Star hated to make errors but seeing her so mirthful pleased him.

"Shut up," He murmured playfully, giving her the plate he made with enough food to choke a horse. She ate small portions as par her culture but she might humor him and eat all the blissfully non burnt bacon. She fed him and for a moment he felt like a king being fed by such a beauty. After eating she took a hot shower and prepared to leave but her lover, all muscles, steel eyes, and low riding hip hugging pants would not have it. He stood in the doorway, leaning up against the wall, giving her the bedroom eyes and a smirk that melted her.

"Oh no, you're not leaving so soon baby. You get your cute butt back in bed and let me make up for burning your food."

Tsubaki fiddled with her ebony locks, chewing on her lips, and blushing about what he was suggesting both with his wording and posture as well as his body movement.

"I…uh…you don't have to. It's fine Black*Star."

He put a finger to her lips. "The only fine thing here is you and your right I don't have to but I want to."

He leaned in closer and watched her turn pink as she touched his tattoo, the one on his chest. He got it just for her; it was a camellia blossom right over his heart. He got this at the same time Soul got his music notes. Tsubaki loved the way the dark petals looked on his toned flesh, all spread out revealing the glistening bud. She gulped hard. Now she was thinking dirty tins all because of some flower! Goodness but how she could unravel quickly.

"I want it too…" She vaguely whispered.

"Oh I'm sorry, what was that?"

"I…" She stuttered, stroking his tattoo ever so gently imagining his fingers gliding on her womanhood. "I…want it too."

Black*Star whispered huskily in her ear, "You want what, Tsu?"

"Bl-Black Star..." She tremblingly said, legs wobbling and knees buckling as he locked eyes with her. She couldn't say it.

"Tch. It's okay, you don't have to say it. I have ways of making you talk," He saucily replied with a wink, "Don't worry you'll be screaming so loud the god in heaven will be hearing you."

Needless to say he was a man of his word and needless to say Tsubaki got nothing on her lost done…save for one thing…she did exercise with Black*Star.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: The perfect boy; You're your father's son?

It was now about 6:00 in the morning and the brilliant, bright, warm sun was laughing heartily in the sky causing a golden glow upon Death City. People who ran the markets or coffee shops were already setting up shop but most other people were fast asleep in their little beds, peaceful and content with their average lives. No one in their right mind would be awake at such a time, save for Maka who was on a mission to visit one of her closest of friends. Yet there was one who woke up earlier than she every day and spent time out all night every night, tracing the street and observing the city. He watched over it, protected it. It was his duty and as such it left him utterly sleepless but despite his less than three hours of sleep he wore a smile whenever he was greeted and sounded kind, gentle, authoritative, and had a charm to him that read as a well-bred individual-; almost princely.

Otherwise he wore a firm look and had a perfect upright posture, nearly gliding across the pavement as he went and at times he was accompanied by a woman or women, sometimes one or two or even three. One was a sharply dressed woman with a strict attitude, short cut black hair, glasses that she regularly pushed up when making a point, and was rarely one to have a smile. Most feared her because she was so stern. She was one of the death scythes, stationed in both Oceania and East Asia. Her name was Azusa Yumi, the rifle with incredible shooting skills. Charts and statistics were her bread and butter, formality and business was her water and air. Her pacific blue eyes could see farther than anyone else's and she could map out entire buildings without having actually been there to physically see them. Azusa usually donned all black in the form of a professional business suit that was always wrinkle free, ironed to the point of being as stiff as she was, with a silver skull pinned on her outer jacket near her breast to signify she worked for a higher power.

The other girls, two of them most always seen together, were sisters with the same honey blonde hair color and bright turquoise eyes but were uniquely different from each other. For on the youngest had a much shorter, flipped hairstyle, larger breasts, wide, sparkling eyes to see the worlds wonders, and a bubbly nature while the other sister, the older one, had long straight hair that touched her upper back, a larger rear end, narrow eyes that had seen the harshness of the world. She was tough yet sweet. She adored her little sister to no end, trying to make her as happy as possible no matter the cost. The littlest sister was Patty and the eldest was Elizabeth but always went by Liz. They were once famous around the ghettos of where they grew up as the well noted Thompson Sisters who would rob you by gun point and laughed in the face of danger.

They lurked in the alley ways stealing for their next meal, becoming more like rats than young ladies. Poverty stricken and homeless they had no choice but to embrace a life of crime that started with petty things and escaladed to murder, though only once. Nothing made them scared, they were brutal and beautiful, and most gang members turned tail when seeing them. Yet their lifestyle came with a heavy price. There were times where they did go hungry and times Liz grew sick to her stomach of seeing her sister in a dirty little hovel playing with broken toys found in the rubble of run down apartments or drawing with her finger in the dirt on the wall. This was no life for them to lead but what choice had they? It seemed fate would favor them.

Into their lives a meister appeared sand took them on as his weapons, both of them being pistols, and from then on their life of starvation, struggle, crime, hustling, and frustration came to an end. The meaning of friendship was learned through him and they went from thieving lowlifes to some of the most prominent women in the town within a matter of months. People always commented,

"Hey aren't those the twin pistols?"

"Oh look it's the weapons used to defeat the kishin!"

"Say, aren't those the twin pistols used by Lord Death's son?"

"Boy those girls are sure a sight to see."

Liz wasn't particularly used to it at first for she grew up around people calling her all manner of ugly words that would be frowned upon if a young lady should say them. Eventually, she got used to it and she, with her gleeful sister, was permitted into high society. This was something she never even dared to dream of sleeping on the cold streets, the sounds of sirens in her ears and the smell of compost in the air. Now she was a wealthy high class socialite who traded in her baggy sweat pants for a pencil skirt, her vulgar language for refined speech, and her loose mess of hair to a high bun. Patti, oh her dear sweet innocent Patti, was never happier with all the pretty dresses she could ever want and toys galore, and finery as far as the eye could see. To Liz, if nothing else, this was all she wanted and if all should go back to the way it was she would want her sister to remain happy and youthful.

Her sister represented a side of Liz that was taken from her a long time ago, a sparkling twinkle of innocence in a corrupt world and Liz would rather die than see her Patti, her darling little sister whom was the only blood family she had, suffer and cry. It would not happen, not in either of their lifetimes. Patti would remain healthy and joyous because that's how their mesiter saw fit. He provided them with more comfort than they could imagine and luxuries they once envied and now owned. Pure satin sheets, rose petal soaps, lavender oils, expensive perfumes, imported wine, exquisite cuisine, and something more that could not be bought- happiness. Liz could not find enough words to thank him, it would take a life time, but every time she did he would always put up his hand and smile gently.

"No need to thank me for you already have by just being my friend. Meeting you both was enough of a thank you."

What a guy! A true gentleman and a true friend, her best friend. She loved him, not in any sort of romantic way even if the age barrier didn't exist she wouldn't, he was like a brother to her. He was as much her family as Patty. His love for both of them was plutonic yet indescribably deep and earthy, as it was with most of his friends. He had an open heart and an opinion that was without harsh judgment; he was riddled with logic and a strong sense of justice. He was righteous and stoic in every sense and his people loved him. He was the one up so early, waltzing along the streets, watching over his people and his city with a watchful, analytical eye. It was because of hi that there was less crime; life in Death City was more peaceful now, even with the witches living alongside the mortals.

The coexisted better than he had hoped, with spurs every now and then because of old timers who were prejudice and hotheaded warlocks and witches. It was nothing he couldn't handle diplomatically. He put an end to any and all fights he could if he could. His name was Death the Kid named after his father, the late legend Lord Death, Shinigami who made Death City and its school. After the fall of Asura kid took his rightful place as the new Shinigami-Sama, ran the school, and protected his city. As peaceful as it was as of late he always knew there was a very real possibility of evil lurking as with all good there must be an evil to disturb good. When he wasn't running the school he left it in the care of the older death scythes, Sid the zombafied teacher, Spirit Albarn the ex-death scythe, or any others of high respect that knew his father well. If any problems arose they could contact him via mirror, just like his father. After connecting his lines of sanzu he was now symmetrical though now a days he cared a lot less about such things. He wasn't as OCD as he once was. He was very, very tall and lean with deep golden eyes on his narrow face. Many said he was of extreme handsomeness and that he had a strong jaw with a tightly drawn face- whatever that meant.

Kid wore a long black coat that had coat tails which made awkward bends and twist to give it and his silhouette a distinct shape. Not many people knew what he wore underneath the coat as it stayed closed around him and pooled at the floor, concealing his shoe covered feet but they could clearly see the skull pin nestled at the top, close to his throat, fastened there as an emblem of who he was and where he came from. The coat came with a hood but he rarely put it up and he did have the traditional mask handed down by his father but it was atop his head so that people may see his face as he wanted to be distinguishable from his father. Kid's white striped black hair did grow much longer but he cut it as he liked to stay very sharp looking and everywhere he went all he heard was;

"There he is, the son of Lord Death!"

"Our savior!"

"Our hero!"

"We owe you our life!"

"Thank you O'Lord!"

These were mingled in with the usual greetings which he responded to with a nod or a lively 'Good Morning' while courteously asking how they were faring. He must admit, though, he did not like being called Lord Death. He felt like that was reserved for his father, even if it was more a title than a name. Even calling him Lord anything felt wrong, no matter how stately he was. Kid was on his way to the DWMS when Azusa met him halfway there, which she usually did. She gave him a little bow as one might to do nobility which was something else he was not comfortable with and joined by his side, clipboard in hand.

"Good day Lord Death."

Kid mentally cringed hearing that. Maybe it was the memory maybe it was that it wasn't his name but he could not stand it! "Please Azusa, let's be candid here. You may call me Kid outside of the walls of the DWMA."

"With all due respect sir," She stated in monotone, lightly pushing up her glasses, "You are not a kid anymore you are a frown man with a title, the title of your father. It would feel informal to address you as a child even if it is your birth name."

Kid sighed heavily for, in part, she was correct but he could not accept the title. It was too much of a burden on an already burdened soul. It was his birth right, he was doomed to have it from conception, and it was a strong title indeed. He was proud of it and all that it stood for and all he came from but such a title belonged to someone better than he. Perhaps he felt that he did not deserve such a prestigious honor.

"Very well then. I suppose you are right. It's just…even after all this time it feels so strange."

"It will pass, as all things do. Perhaps you can make a new name, if it bothers you so much but Lord Death is such a prominent title that changing it almost seems impractical, it would be like severing off a piece of your noble lineage."

"You always have such good advice, Azusa. I can always trust you to give me level headed guidance through times where logic fails even me."

"That is why I am your advisor, Sir," She explained with a very rare grin that happened so fast it was almost missed.

"Before we head in would you like to grab some coffee? I'll buy?"

"I wouldn't mind a cup but you shouldn't sell out your money so carelessly. I can purchase my own."

"Nonsense," Kid retorted, simply not taking 'no' for an answer whilst opening the door to the local Death Bucks. "After you."

Always chivalrous as a nobleman without all the stuffy uppity nature. He was down-to-earth and homey. Most said talking with him was like being with an old friend you've known all your life because he treated you as a human being-as an equal, as if you were indeed his friend. They walked inside and, as expected, everyone in the place got all excited to see him and greeted him with a bow and asked him a multitude of questions, all of which he promptly, swiftly, and sweetly answered, sparing no person. Some treated him like a literal lord, like THEE lord, like the god in heaven. They would kiss his hands and get all watery eyed, calling him the messiah. Part of this warmed him up and part of it only added to the sense of duty he had. He had to live up to a big name and fill in some big shoes. At times he envied Black*Star's spirit, he wished he could, at the least pretend he was a big man. It was a lot to handle, even for him.

"Hey Kid!" the young waitress at the counter merrily chirped, leaning excitably over the cash register. It was Patty who worked here with her sister. Kid was glad that his friends still called him by his name; it was as if nothing had changed, despite how much had changed.

"Hello Patty, I expect your faring well?"

"You bet! Me and Sis love working here! We even get a discount! Oh wait one sec," she geld up her finger to him and then hollered loud enough to shake glasses into another room, "HEY SIS KID IS HERE!"

From behind the curtains of the other room came Liz, wearing a maid outfit that was her uniform. "Kid! Hey there, nice to see ya!"

"You as well. Did you do something to your hair?"

"Yeah," she proudly replied, flipping her hair, "Got highlights."

"Sis told me I could get some too," Patty squealed, showing off her outrageously loud pink and green highlights that decorated her hair. Kid wasn't even sure how he missed those but then again he only slept an hour, maybe less, so it was extraordinary that he was able to even function at all.

"Wow Patty they are…um…very special."

Liz laughed for she knew her meister was much too polite to say that they were obnoxiously vibrant and strange to say the least. Liz just got a nice chestnut color but her sister, of course being Patty, got the most colorful ones she could. She claimed she wanted to look like a unicorn.

"Well, what can we get you?" Liz finally asked, taking out a note pad.

"The usual."

"You never change, do you?" Liz asked with a flat face, seeming disappointed almost. "Always the same. I suppose it's just as well. Miss. Yumi, what can I get for you today?"

"Just a strong black coffee and a piece of toast."

"Alright. Got it. Take a seat and it will be right out."

She then got busy making a caramel and cream cappuccino with two shots of espresso, one lump of sugar, whipped cream, and salted caramel sauce. She always added a dash of cinnamon and a small sprig of mint because that's how Kid liked it. Liz got the drinks to the table as well as the toast and two sugar cookies in the familiar shape of Lord Death's mask.

"Anything else?"

"No thank you Liz. Please, take a break, you work too hard."

"Pft. Like your one to talk, and besides, this is the busiest time right now!"

Kid admired her productivity and Patty's happy attitude. Kid smiled at Liz zooming about and Liz folding the table napkins into adorable animal shapes. He sipped his sweet concoction that he always got, the reason he always got it was because it's what his father drank and when Kid was just a little kid he asked for a sip. From then on Kid came to like the drink just as much. It brought him back to his childhood, sitting with his father, sipping their drinks and sharing the cookies with each other. An empty sour feeling hit in the bottom of his pocket as he scarfed down the cookie, nearly swallowing it whole as to assuage his lingering feeling of loss. Now there was one cookie left and no one to share it with. He suddenly felt a bitter sickness from the cavity inducing things he once loved in his boy years, the things he didn't really care for now but ate anyways because it felt that it was one of the only things he had left of his father.

"Are you alright, sir?" Azusa asked, a hint of concern in her usually monotone voice.

"Oh, I'm fine, no need to worry about me."

"It's my job to worry about you, your father, rest his soul, asked me to watch over you."

"And I humbly thank you for respecting his wishes, but I am fine. As you said, it will pass."

After they paid, Kid leaving a pretty hefty tip much to Azusa's dismay and Kid taking the other cookie to go, they continued their merry stroll to their destination. Suddenly a brash voice cut into the silence cutting off Kid's concentration. The name being said by it was defiantly familiar.

"Listen Maka I told you I have no idea what kind of flowers she would like."

"Just chose one, the orchids or the begonias."

"I'm not into that girl shit!"

Kid looked into the flower shop and saw a sight he was accustomed to seeing, his good old friends Maka Albarn and Soul Eater arguing. Maka was holding two bouquets of flowers and Soul had his hands deep in his pockets looking utterly bored.

"I see you two are getting along well," Kid joked, feeling quite spirited around his companions.

Maka turned her head and grinned. "Hey Kid, fancy seeing you here!"

"Sup Kid?" Soul greeted casually, giving him a brotherly hand shake.

It felt good just to be himself once more around those who didn't kiss the ground he walked on or bowed or anything like that! They respected him but their friendship came first and to him that was one of the most respectful things they could do for him.

"I was just on my way to the DWMA. You?"

"Oh we were on our way to Stein's to visit Crona and see the baby."

Kid heard Crona's name and showed visual signs of interest. He felt like he barely knew the shy pink haired young lady even though, in some retrospect, he should know her quiet being Maka's friend and all. He honestly wanted very much to be close friends with the daughter of the witch for Kid felt he had done some horrible injustice to the poor thing, a wrong he wished to right, and pain he wanted to help erase, pain he felt was his fault. There was such an agony in Crona's eyes whenever he did see her. She feared him; he could feel the fear coming off of her. She wanted nothing to do with him or even be around him and he had to know why. He could not have anyone fear him other than his enemies. He felt meeting her and talking to her would sort things out and get rid of any awkward feelings, settle some differences, and close doors left much too wide open. It would give him answers and closure and besides that he hadn't seen the child Stein "created" with Marie. Kid wanted to see the new generation; it would bring a new light into him. Seeing children always did.

"You know…I might just tag along. Azusa can you-"

"Say no more. I will cover for you." She bowed then left him to make merry with his friends.

"Alright! But first..which flowers to bvring…"

"Ah for fucks sake!" Soul groaned, leaning his head back. "Hurry your ass up!"

"Shut up Soul!"

Kid grinned in spite of himself. They hadn't changed a bit and he was glad of that fact. He liked change but there were some things that should stay the same. Eventually they picked both, one for Marie and one for Crona. The trio went off, Soul and Maka on the motorbike and kid on Beelzebub, his trust skateboard. As he zoomed through the sky he heard his people below him scream with joy upon seeing him.

"He flies just like a god!"

"He's a superhero!"

"He is our savior!"

"Such style. Such poise."

"How handsome!"

They also wished him good luck, best wishes, happy travels and other such things like that but one remark rose above all the rest, clear and strident and stayed glued in his head all day.

"He's just like his father!"

Kid grimaced and flew faster as if to fly away from the comment as fast as he could. His father's face was everywhere- on him, around him as if it was mocking him and in his head that remark rang like a bell and repeated like a broken record. He wasn't Kid anymore, no not to them; he was Lord Death, not just a son but the man himself. The weight was heavy enough to drag him down and drown him, the responsibility was choking him. He thought he could handle it, he thought he could manage it with an iron grip like his father but he wasn't his father and that was just the problem. He was just his son. He was no real replacement; he did no justice to the name. He didn't deserve it. Kid grasped the very thing he and everyone recognized the most, his father's mask, and rubbed it with his thumbs, nearly biting through his own teeth.

"The people look to me now for guidance, they need me. They are troubled, father, and I am failing you. I am not the legend I'm just living in your shadow. I am nothing like you. Azusa was wrong, I'm still a kid."


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4- Stitches and souls; the doctors' hypothesis?

A grey home would draw no attention if you passed it but if you should see a large looming building with a forest of crooked trees surrounded by an eerie mist and a deadly silence then you might proceed with caution. However if said grey building had cobwebbed windows and was covered with stitches then no doubt you'd get the hell out of dodge, as they say. The home was not nearly as creepy as its owner who stood in a dark room only dimly lit by a garish light swinging from the ceiling, hidden by shadow his only features that were discernible was his face stitched face that mimicked the dreadfully frightening abode he resided in, a pair of round glasses that glinted in a malevolent way, moss colored hair, and a wide smirk that read as nothing short of sinister and insane. The cherry on top was what was protruding from his head of grey/silver hair-a giant shining screw that he turned at the head like a bizarre knob and this made him disturbingly gleeful. He uttered a dark chuckle, the screw making a sick clicking noise as he turned it.

"Well Junior, how about we play a game?"

His voice was malicious, as if the words himself riveted him greatly. He slowly walked closer and closer to an infant's crib; the blood stains on his stitched doctors' coat popped out under the light. They covered him from head to toe, he was a bloody mess he looked as if he just slaughtered a poor defenseless creature and the look in his seemingly glowing green eyes made it look like he was about to do it again, and would take great pleasure in doing so.

"I think I'd like to dissect you, let's start with your stomach," He uttered maniacally, his voice cracking and giving way to utter madness. In his hand he turned a long sharp object in his hand coming closet and closet to the toddler.

Meanwhile, past all the labs where science experiments were performed, past the autopsy rooms and the bubbling brews in beakers, was a woman with curly, kinky orangish blonde hair and would have two hazel eyes if one wasn't covered by an eye patch. She was a lovely woman, one of the death scythes-the pulverizing hammer, but she retired from the Oceania district and settled down to have a family which was something she had always wanted to do. She loved both her husband and her child without condition, not a day passed where she didn't feel like she was full of sunshine and blessed to be able to have such a life. She was more than content with being a doting housewife who cooked and cleaned and took care of her little ones. That's just how she wanted to be.

Her name was Marie Mjoliner, before marriage of course where her last name changed. She happily swept the floor, whistling a cheery tune, patiently waiting for the bottle to finish warming up for her little one, her hair now braided down her back, but suddenly her merriment was disturbed by a mothers worst fear. Her child screamed. Immediately she dropped the broom and rushed to the child's room, preparing to assault anyone who dared harm her precious bundle of joy or fix any problems her little miracle had. She was filled to the brim with motherly instinct and a maternal system that screamed for parenthood and to be the best wife ever. If she heard a scream she went to it, prepared to sacrifice her life for her darling dear. Marie kicked open the door, ready to murder or be murdered, her eyes wide and heart pounding when she discovered a mad man holding her child.

That mad man was her husband and in his hand was a feather. He was tickling their son.

"Oh Death," She sighed with relief, leaning up against a wall, placing a hand over her rapidly beating heart, "I heard Ein scream and thought he was being murdered."

Stein, Doctor Franken Stein, was a mad scientist and a brilliant doctor as well as physician. He was insane but brilliant. He was also kind and caring but a noted jokester. Stein smiled at her, all close-eye like, as if he were harmless in his endeavors, as if he wasn't trying to frighten her. He got quite the kick from making people jump out of their skin and from removing their skin too, as he had a strange fascination with dissection.

"Now why would I do that, honey? I'd want to experiment before killing."

"Stein!" Marie gasped in horror, all color fading from her face and her eyes wide as saucers, her poor heart still thumping hard from her previous fright.

"Only kidding," he soothed, watching her face become more docile and calm before leering at her from the side, a shadow crossing over his face save for the glint to his glasses, "or am I?"

His lovely wife changed a strange pale green color, her mouth dropping and eye twitching as the image of Stein opening up her son to analyze him played in her mind. Stein laughed at the reaction, thoroughly enjoying it, and it seemed his child did too for he giggled as he was bounced in Stein's arms.

"Frank you better not!" Marie warned, gaining her composure while pointing at him angrily, a vein in her head slightly appearing though her anger thinly masked her worry.

"Relax," he cooed, wrapping his arm around her while remarking, internally, about how she fit perfectly against him , like they were one unit, and he vaguely thought if such a thing could happen, "if I make a mistake we can always have more."

"Not funny!" She screeched, arms crossed and baring her teeth to him. "I better not come back one day and see screws in his neck!"

"Oh that's a good idea, right Ein?"

Their adorable two years old nodded his head, his thumb in his mouth. Even though he was two Ein showed signs of great intelligence, understanding a lot of words from the English language and speaking from the early age of ten and a half months. His first word was 'screwball'; it was in reference to a cartoon character holding up a ball and a screw. He then pointed at his father and said, "Daddy Screwball!" to which Stein was on the floor laughing and this became a nickname for him since then. He could count to one hundred, say I love you in three languages as well as hello, excelled in math, could recognize over twenty animals, and knew what went in hydrogen.

On his second birthday he was given his own play chemistry set that used common food like items such as sodas and cakes to make edible creations. He had a pair of goggles and his very own lab coat too, to match his father; they had the same vivid green eyes that seemed to have electricity running through them. Stein taught him how to make his own ice cream; scientifically of course, it was something Stein learned in middle school and he passed it on to his child who he doted on. He was his little protégée, his "Igor", and even though the ice cream experiment is something only a twelve year old could do he was able to execute it. They made chocolate, which was Marie's favorite.

She could not be any prouder of her son if she tried and she too saw what Stein saw in him, but he saw it even more. He was the one who named him Ein, knowing his last name would be Stein, and he firmly believed his son would have a great intellect when he saw him place a circle in a circle hole at an incredibly young age, thus showing advanced cognition skills. He saw the wheels in Ein's head move as he put two and two together and it filled him with utter joy.

"This boy will be a genius," he often proclaimed and his adoring wife would nod with a smile so cheerful it made him want to kiss her terribly.

"Listen Stein, I mean it, if you-"

But he cut her off with a soft tender kiss which made Ein go "eww!" Stein locked eyes with her, stroking her face lovingly. He could not put into words how much he loved her and how much she meant to him. Never ever did he love like this in fact he wasn't even sure he was capable of love, especially not towards the opposite sex. He felt too unsure of himself, of his sanity, and knew that with his instability he could not hold a relationship of any kind with anyone, man or woman, even a friendly one. So he shut himself away from society, living alone in his own bubble of craziness like an outcast and did what he pleased without persecution or judgment that he always received because he did not fit the "norm". he despised that word "Normal", for he knew there was no such thing. The world was not black and white; it had many shades of grey and even other colors. The world was diverse, the world was abnormal, in another culture he'd be praised.

Then along came his high school ex and his doubt was replaced by a foreign feeling he swore he wasn't even able to produce. Try as he might to ignore it as nothing the feeling pushed more and more because of her. She was persuasive. She loved him, despite his madness; she loved him like no woman ever loved a man. All his quirks were perks and she adored his flaws, she accepted him and it was a blessing, a light in his dark soul. She accepted him! Oh that someone as beautiful as she who was kind and smart and feminine, could even go for someone like he who was beyond odd and convicted of killing people for fun. She was stable, he was not. It was a perfect balance for him, this was a scientific fact. All the sudden he recognized the feeling he had- it was love. He loved her so much it was like dyeing of pure joy- a soulgasm.

Their kisses were sweet, their love making passionate and more maddening than anything he ever felt, and their conversations were something he thoroughly enjoyed. She was so bright and cheery; it was Christmas every day for her. He quit smoking for her sake, he redecorated for her, and he took up sports and other hobbies. She was worth everything and just when he thought his life could get no better she turned up in his work room one day with a smile to bring shame to the sunlight. She spoke no words, she had none to speak, but she needn't any words just her actions. She placed his hand on her stomach and Stein, a gifted soul detector, felt and saw a tiny soul inside her stomach.

That's when it all registered and hit him hard. He thought he would be alone forever and eventually die alone, however an angel must have had an eye out for him. Never did he think he'd be the married type and never even his wildest dreams did he even fathom he'd be the father type. The more he rubbed her stomach the more it became a reality. She was carrying his child, what a crazy thought.

"I'm going to be a father," he half whispered, tears coming to his eyes, a thing he hadn't done since infanthood and a sudden, unexplainable joy exploding in his chest. He felt a pulse, the pulse of his child. His! Of course he was afraid at first, he wasn't one hundred percent positive he could be a functioning member of society much less a father even less a good one but when he held the he held the child's hand in his he could think of nothing else but nurturing it. He was, next to Maka, one of the few children to come out of a meister-weapon relationship, with a pretty strong soul for a youngster. Ein was well loved by both parents receiving motherly care and fatherly advice. He could have no better parents, even if they were having icky kissy time in front of him.

"Honey," Stein sweetly said, breathing in her flowery scent, "I would only experiment on animals, not my child. Unless…of course, you'd like me to experiment on you," He purred, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh Stein," She laughingly replied, playfully pushing him away with a blush, "if you did that we'd have more kids." Then a sudden dawning came upon her. "Actually…I was thinking…that maybe we could…."

Stein raised both of his brows at the prospect of having more children. He wouldn't mind in the least. Marie had wanted more children for a while now; it was something burning in her maternal coil that demanded more kids than she could handle. Stein once told her in bed that her hips were genetically crafted for making babies. She took it as a compliment. He meant it that way as he wasn't great at smooth talking or any sort of pillow talk. It didn't matter to her, she accepted him all the same.

"What do you think?"

"I say let's do it, I wouldn't mind having a few more guinea pigs around."

"Pigs!" Ein exclaimed, making an oinking noise.

"Ein approves."

"I don't! Now give me Ein, he needs to eat."

Stein gladly handing over his bouncing baby boy to his charming wife who promptly fed the hungry boy. Stein pet his sons head with the upmost care and adoration.

'So small and breakable. So fragile.' His inner mind mused. When Stein held him when he was just a newborn he was mortified and dreamt only of dropping him. Yet his grip was like a viper, he dare not drop him. As much as he jested he could not stomach the thought of putting even the tiniest stitch on his son.

"I love you my dear, you make me so happy," Marie told her husband, kissing him only to be kissed back in a way that stole her breath.

She had no idea how much he loved her, how much he needed her. She was the medication for his aching soul and quieted his inner insanity. His life, which was so empty before, would feel even more so without her. He now knew how his old friend Spirit felt with Kami Albarn and could not even grasp the idea of cheating. It seemed a crime to terrible to commit. Losing Marie or Ein would truly turn Stein to the dark side. They were his life. They were his sanity. Marie ever so gently brushed against his screw which turned the knob making a light groan come from him.

"Careful, darling, the child is present and I think he's too young to learn about the birds and bees, "he hoarsely whispered

"Oh sorry, force of habit." Stein smiled at her before turning his head toward the door, hearing a hard kick on the door.

"It's not Halloween yet," he declared, a wide smile on his face and his glasses glinting, knowing very well who it was at the door, "but I might provide some tricks yet."

Outside of Stein's door were Soul, Maka, and Kid all waiting for the stitched face of their school professor and favorite doctor to appear and let them in. An eerie silence was followed by a creepy squeak of wheels, like a gurney being wheeled down a marble floor. The door slowly opened upon its own accord and speeding out of it was a rolly chair that hit a small rock and sent its owner face planting into the pavement, nearly breaking his glasses.

"Graceful landing as usual," Kid joked. Stein grinned up at him, dusting himself off and getting back on his stitched chair.

"Kid, didn't expect to see you here. Maka, Soul, how are you?"

"We're fine," Soul vouched, wishing he could tuck away his literal soul so stein couldn't nosily peer into it, which Soul was positive the stitched doctor was doing.

Maka gave him a worried sideways glance. Stein caught it. She was here to talk to him about Soul, no doubt, that much was obvious. Like Maka he could read souls and it was plain to see that there was trouble brewing inside the albino, Stein saw that the moment he opened the door, yet he would not mention it now, he did not want to worry Maka any more…yet. He appeared, by all means, calm and collected.

"We're here to visit Crona. We brought her and Miss. Marie some flowers."

"How nice. Well come on in, do excuse the place it's not very clean….according to my wife anyways."

Stein was saying this as he wheeled himself back inside, thinking about the danger that lurked inside Soul and how it mimicked the young daughter of a witch he adopted. Though she wasn't his own child he did love her just as much as Ein but she was so distant it was hard to love her and give her the best schooling and parenting he could. The only contact they had was in his examination room where he did experiments to see what was wrong with her or right with her, not invasive experimentation just simple doctoring. He wanted the best for her and wanted to protect her but how could he protect her from herself?

This house was made for only one psychopath and besides his wife, his poor sweet wife, loved Crona more life itself as she had always wanted a daughter. Crona could not love Marie back, she couldn't deal with it. Stein could relate. Once he wasn't certain how to deal with things, he thought his awkward unsociable madness would consume him. He found a parallel that he hoped would unlock Crona, more than anything he could ever do- If he could change because of a pure soul from a blonde woman then another could do the same for Crona. In short, Maka was the answer to Crona's problem; at least this was how he saw it. This was his hypothesis but as often with these temperamental things, a hypothesis is often proven false.


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Welcome to my home- The daughter that isn't theirs?

The interior of Stein and Maries abode was much more welcoming since it was given a woman's touch. Bright colorful flowers in clay pots, pretty curtains to frame the windows, throw pillows on the sofa, light fixtures, hanging pictures, and little bits and bobbles like statues. Even the walls were a cheery yellow here and there which added a certain brightness to the place. To the gang it was a much needed "face lift" from the horrific haunted house it had once been.

"Wow you sure did clean up around here, huh? I love the color of your walls," Maka commented, taking a small whiff of the fresh crisp scent coming from the strategically placed candles.

Soul stopped to look up and down at an ivory statue that was a smaller version of a roman god he once saw. He might not seem like someone with an eye for architecture but he had a deep appreciation for it as well as art of any sort. He and Maka often went to the museum but that was before he started taking all sorts of medications to control himself. He bitterly grimaced at the memory of the two of them in the museum, smiling and pointing at the objects with fasciation. He wanted things to be like that again, but knew it couldn't. he tried to focus on the artwork in front of him, the sculpture that was a head taller than him.

"Wicked cool," he appreciated, analyzing it. He liked it so much he might even get one for his room.

"Thank you all so much! I'm thrilled to have some company over! I should make some tea; do you all want some tea? I'll make some tea," she rapidly spoke, balancing her son in one hand and rummaging about the cabinets to find tea cups with the other hand. She was utterly flustered as she did not get much company since the moon incident, or really at all.

Stein put his hand firmly on her back. "Settle down now. I'll make the tea, you go socialize."

"If you say so. Well you're all very welcome though, I must admit, the house isn't nearly as clean as I'd like it."

"Oh Miss. Marie don't fret so much, it is beyond beautiful. Any cleaner and we'd be blind," quipped Kid, appreciating the overall cleanliness of the home then settled his golden eyes on the cherub in her arms.

"Ah is this the little one?"

Marie could not fight her proud warm smile; neither could Stein as he set about making tea in a similar fashion to making a concoction in his lab. Marie bounced her beloved gift from above making him giggle.

"Again again!" he laughed, clapping his hands.

"Yes this is Ein, our pride and joy."

"Our precious experiment gone right," Stein remarked, close eyed grinning while stirring the tea with what looked like a glass thermometer.

"Oh," Marie remarked, suddenly surprised, "That's right you've never seen him really."

"I haven't had the time," Kid softly responded, a touch of sadness in his voice and perhaps, some regret, "but I am glad to meet him. Hello, little one, my name is Death the Kid."

"Kid Death!" The toddler babble, grabbing Kid's cheeks with the utmost glee. "You have stripes in hair, like zebra!"

Kid laughed hard then, they all did and suddenly their fears and doubts and troubles that they harbored all melted in that laugh. Kid's heart was light and full of joy in that moment and anything bad he felt was gone, it felt good to be so happy instead of overworked or stressed.

"Oh death, he is a riot," Kid stated, patting the child on the head in a caring fashion.

"Just like his father," both Marie and Stein said at the same time. Stein then offered tea to everybody but they just held it in their hands, too afraid to sip anything made by him. Knowing him, he could of slipped death knows what in it. Ein held out his hands to Maka who gladly accepted what was, in some technicality, her nephew seeing as Spirit and Stein were like brothers. She genuinely considered Stein her uncle and Marie her Aunt so it was only right that she be his aunt.

"Auntie Auntie!" he cried with joy, hugging her tight. "Matchka, I made puzzle!"

"You did?" Maka excitable asked, in the way most people spoke to children.

"Indeed he did. The boy will be a genius!" Stein proudly proclaimed.

Marie leaned over to Soul and whispered, "He says that every day, he's a bit cocky."

"Heh. I know that deal all too well."

"How is Black*Star, anyways?" Marie wondered aloud, knowing he meant the blue haired ninja.

"Still goin' steady with Tsubaki, so I know he's good."

"Aww, Stein, isn't that just too cute?!" Marie gushed, grasping her husband's arm. "Ah, young love."

"Love is a basic chemical reaction I acquire when with you."

"Oh you have such a way with words," She swooned, decoding his over-complication of the term 'I love you'.

Maka placed her sweet little nephew on the ground, watching him walk to Soul who awkwardly picked him up, uneasy with children. His red eyes smiled gently as did he as he got accustomed to the intellectual child who asked questions about why his teeth were sharp and then Ein's eyes went wide and excited seeing one of Soul's arms transform into a weapon. Ein was incredibly fascinated by that, rarely seeing his mother transform as she had no need to so seeing this left him flabbergasted and as enthusiastic as he had been on Christmas.

Maka couldn't help but watch the two and think that maybe she was wrong, maybe he was fine but she wished it was as so. She wished she wasn't seeing what she saw in his literal soul, she wished he was fine. His soul was a disheveled mess and even now with him being more like himself his soul was not even close to what it should be. She knew what she must do. She tugged on Stein's jacket.

"Doctor Stein I wanted-"

"Sh. I know. Come with me in my office and we'll talk about it."

"How did you know?" Maka asked, stunned.

"I can read souls too, remember?" He gave her a serious look before telling his wife he and Maka were going to have a little chat about her health. Soul knew better, he knew now that the real reason she came here was to talk to the professor about him. Damn both of them and their soul perception! Why couldn't they be normal and boring like everyone else? Why wouldn't they leave him alone and let him handle this himself? He excused himself to use the bathroom but was really going to eavesdrop on Maka and Stein.

"Well then it's just us. Did you want to watch some television or play a board game? Perhaps I came make you some buttery rolls or biscuits?"

"Your hospitality makes most women ashamed, Please, do not worry your hair gray. I am fine."

"Gah!" Marie screeched running her gingers through her braided locks. "Do you honestly think it will?! Oh death I am getting old and wrinkly, aren't I?" Marie painfully howled, stretching her face in such a way that Ein was rolling on the floor with laughter.

"Mommy silly!"

"She is very silly. Really now, you're not old, you look great for a parent of two."

She instantly brightened, rubbing her eyes of small tears. She really didn't want to end up like her mother, old, wrinkled, ugly, and all alone, turning to drugs and many different men to be happy. Marie had a pretty troubled childhood, one only stein and Azusa knew about. "You-You think so?"

"I know so," He insisted. "So, where is Crona? I suppose I should visit her if the rest are occupied."

It seemed as soon as she was up she was down and sadness crossed over Marie. "Oh Crona…I nearly forgot that's why you came…and often I even forget she lives here….she's so quiet….She's probably in her room…" A sudden somberness entered her voice while a heavy sigh escaped her light pink lips. "I….I worry about her, Kid. She's so distant and I hear her talking to herself all the time .Stein has done so much to figure her out, get her to open up but every time we get close she shuts back up. I've always wanted a daughter….I want to love her…. I don't know what else to do…I-I try so hard."

Her voice cracked and tears spilled down her good eyes, tumbling down her cheeks which had been so rosy not too long ago. Kid's heart broke seeing this motherly figure all broken down like a house of cards. She was a strong woman with German roots; she had to be strong in a world where women were usually seen as weak. Even so she was a gentle flower, easily wilted. It seemed the more she tried to hold Crona the more Crona denied her.

"There there," Kid softly comforted, offering her a tissue, "That's why we are here. Don't worry, we'll help."

"Oh thank you Kid," Marie thanked through her sniffling, dabbing her eye with the tissue, "You're all such good people. I'm glad to know you."

"Mommy," a small concerned voice piped up, "Are you ok?"

"Sweetie, oh sweetie sweetie. Mommy is alright. Don't you worry," She tenderly cooed, picking up her livelihood sand planted soft kisses on his face.

"Will Sissy be ok?"

"I…I'm sure she will be. Do you think you can help Kid? You all are her friends. Crona needs you all; if anyone can help it's you guys."

Yet another burden, another task, another heavy load for the son of death to take on, more weight to carry, but he took it as if it weighed less than a feather especially because Ein pleaded,

"Please, Kiddo, please?"

That broke him and melted his heart. His father once called him kiddo and hearing that age old nickname along with the sweet voice of a child urging him on was uplifting.

"You can count on us," He affirmed which earned him a tight hug and a "thankies". Kid then mentally prepared himself for the unknown of what lie beyond the door that led to Crona's room. What did she look like, sound like? Would she recognize him? Would she fear him yet again? What if she stayed silent? Would she run away? Would she try to hurt him? Would she hide? He felt like Crona herself for he wasn't sure if he could handle this. He refused to let his heart pump with fear or skin sweat. Death the Kid did not fear his own friends, no matter their mental stability. If he could respect and handle Stein than he could more than handle her.

He thought it polite to kick before entering a ladies room but she didn't answer immediately. He vaguely heard a weak feminine breathy voice say,

"Come in."

He took it as a welcome and came inside. The room was pitch black, it took his special shinigami eyes some time to adjust before he made out some shapes and shadows and a figure in the corner. The figure flinched as the door closed.

"Who-who are you?"

"It's me, Kid. We haven't spoken in a while. I'm a friend of Maka's, remember?"

A moment of deadly silence then a murmur of, "Y-yea…is…is Maka here? I thought I heard her."

"She's here and she brought you a gift. Does the light work in here?"

"Y-yes but I leave it off…I….I l-like the dark," She hoarsely whispered, verging on the edge of being creepy.

Kid was not disturbed or shaken, he spoke softly, he spoke gently, his words caressed Crona like a satin sheet, his voice was like a warmth indescribable to her. It was the voice of the very first golden sunshine on the very first misty mountain in the very first spring. He knew to tread lightly with her.

"Well I'd like to be able to see you better. So let's flip this switch, alright?"

"No no no!" Crona warned but it was far too late, Kid flooded her room with white light, illuminating everything it touched including her. The room was a little girls dream doused with all shade of pinks and pastels, accented by white. There walls were stripped with lavender and a flushed face pink, a crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, the bed had a sprightly cherry blossom colored canopy and thousands of pillows with pearly tassels. There was a large white closet with butterfly stickers, a vanity, a crown shaped rug, a book case, and tons of stuffed animals. Patty would have a heart attack if she saw the room.

"I-I told you n-not to," Crona stuttered gently, shuffling away from all the light. "It's too bright."

"I do apologize but I was having trouble seeing. Does it hurt your eyes?"

"K-Kinda. W-why…why are you h-here?"

"To pay you a visit, of course. Might I sit down on your bed?"

Crona nodded, holding a pastel green pillow close to her chest. Now with the light on Kid could finally see Crona clearly, even if she was huddled in a corner with her knees to her chest. Crona had wide lavender eyes ringed with black, almost sunken in but the color they were and the missing pupils made her seem gentle and doe like, almost blind. She was pale but not white and her figure was even leaner than his. Behind the usual boring black frock there was no identifiable figure but a promising bosom was trying to make itself known. Crona's signature pink hair had gotten significantly longer, longer than Liz's hair he'd wager but those accursed split ends and uneven choppy bits that drove him mad were still present.

"Your bed is almost as comfortable as my own. I could almost sleep on it."

"M-M-Marie g-got…got…got it for me."

"Why don't you come here? It seems dreadfully lonesome and uncomfortable in that corner."

Crona scrunched herself in a ball, making herself farther away, pressing the pillow even closer to her chest.

"Fine then, I'll come over there."

"NO!" She screamed, looking at him with fear, her irises trembling and her eyes widening as she saw the mask on his head. She started rocking back and forth, trembling and crying without tears into the pillow that she used as a shield.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry. Don't kill me."

The repeated words cut into him, the severed him, they sliced into his very soul until it was only pieces. She wasn't just scared of him she was horrified. Then came a terrible, cold, dawning. No it wasn't him she was so frightened of. It was his father. Yet it was deeper than that. She was guilty, ridden with it. She had mercilessly slaughtered so many, wounded so many more. A lot of suffering came at her hands. When she was handed over to Marie and stein her mental stability was all out of whack from her experience alone in a bubble on the moon with all the horrid things she did playing in her head.

She was haunted by her past and the blood shed she caused. Crona could not understand why everyone cared so much for a traitor, a murderer, a mother killer or why everyone was so kind and forgiving. Every day she descended more and more into madness, a miniscule amount of black blood steadily growing like mold. Being so disconnected from love and contact as a youth drover her to be this way. Her mother beat her and murder her and she only had one friend-Ragnarok. Now he was gone. Despite her mother beyond one of the worst people in all humanity Crona loathed herself for killing her. It was her mother after all; despite everything Medusa made her do and did to her Medusa was still her mother.

It chewed at her every day. Her friends visited her now and then, Maka was always a comfort but when she left so did any shred of happiness. Voices spoke in her head and her soul ached. She could not physically deal with all the affection showered upon her, especially from Marie. Marie, bless her kind hearted soul, was trying to be the mother Crona so deserved and never had but that was what the problem was. Crona could not accept such unbridled charity, love, and affection especially in the form of a replacement mother. Every time Crona tried she saw her real mother or was reminded of the atrocities that befell poor, sweet Miss. Marie at Crona's own hands.

Even being around Stein felt unorthodox given all the trouble she caused him. Crona felt sure that all the worlds evil, anger, fear, sadness, and turmoil was her fault and it would take a lot of provocative questions , friendship, and consoling to tell her otherwise. Holding or even being close to Ein was defiantly not going to happen any time soon and so she avoided him at all costs despite the fact that little Ein wanted to be close to his older sister. She avoided everything at all costs. She felt she deserved to die alone in the dark hole she called her mind with only her mad thoughts to comfort her and that she didn't deserve such friends or people attempting to be family. Crona's muffled cries became strangled in sound, she was paralyzed with fear.

"It's my fault! I'm sorry I'm Sorry!" Crona felt truly if Kid didn't rescue her that his lines of sanzu wouldn't have connected and he wouldn't have lost his father as she lost her mother. Also, like most people, she feared lord Death himself, even after his death. His heart broke coming to the conclusion that he must remove the mask immediately. He could not stand being the source of any pain…or more so, at that moment, he wanted to be a normal boy who wasn't the son of the source of such pain.

"Lord Death spare me!" Crona yelped, crying like she was struck in the face when he only touched her in the gentlest way possible.

"Crona, Crona, it's just me, Kid," he reassured, shaking the young woman ever so lightly making her come to her senses…slightly.

"Ki…Ki…K-kid….you should quit while your ahead. I'm not worth it and besides…" Then suddenly her pupils came into those lilac eyes that were wider than the full smiling moon, a clear sign of Crona's insanity.

"You should be careful. He is coming. He is inside me."

Kid jumped back, his breath caught in his throat and his heart beating erratically. He nearly jumped out of his own skin, blinking rapidly. Maybe it was his mind playing tricks on him but he swore he saw, even for a second, a red eye on Crona's forehead.

The eye of Asura.


End file.
